Filicide
by Satan's Favorite
Summary: Alex Mercer must face a foe of unspeakable magnitude: His own body.


**Filicide**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Prototype or the characters.

**Note: **The setting is a month after the ending of the game. Gore is included. So no kiddies allowed.

**Chapter 1: Hell on Earth**

Alex Mercer- also known as Zeus by his foes- ran swiftly through the wreckage that littered the blocks of Times Square, with the sounds of helicopters roaring behind him in the distance. He was being hunted, yet again.

Once a hustling and bustling hotspot, Time Square was now a place of death, decay and despair. Cars were wrecked and charred black from flames with bodies still inside. The buildings that towered over the streets were decorated with gaping holes in their structures, displaying their man-made skeletons. One skyscraper in particular, couldn't hold its own weight and was leaning onto its neighbor for support. Others were gutted by raging fires or were _still_ on fire. Then there was the carnage.

Corpses of men, women and…even children… were everywhere. Gore smeared the sidewalk and streets like a sick horror movie. The scene is so violent, so visceral that a soldier was hanging from a street lamp by his intestines, an easy snack for the hundreds of crows that inhabit this part of town. Alex tried his best to avoid stepping on any remains, obviously that was extremely difficult. Drying blood clung to the bottom of his shoes making every step a slick and sickening squish. This street that was known for its entertaining nightlife and crowds was far from what it once was- very far. It is now the end result of war, war between the Military/Blackwatch forces, viral abominations and Alex Mercer himself. If Alex's pursuers catch up to him, it may become a warzone again. His expression was emotionless and his vision was focused forward. His guilt clung to his heart enough as it was, he didn't want to be reminded why it existed. He didn't want his past mistakes rubbed in his face once again, especially not now.

As he rolled himself over the hood of a car to keep from losing speed a sheet of newspaper blew onto Alex's face. Not slowing for a moment, he pulled the paper off his mug and noticed the bold lettering: **"New York City: Hell on Earth"**. Alex gritted his teeth in distaste. It had been a month, maybe more, since he killed Greene and saved New York from a nuclear disaster. Yet, he still feels the weight of the world upon his shoulders and for good reason: Greene's strain of virus was still spreading, slowly, but surely. He removed the head of the snake, but the venom is still taking affect. The infected areas cut down the middle of Manhattan like a red and bleeding wound. For the past few weeks he has been entering into infected zones, laying waste to any remnants of the virus, trying to heal said wound- to cauterize it. He spent his days trying to become a savior by working with the military and Blackwatch, destroying Hives and killing Hunters, yet when they are done they turn their weapons onto him. Kind of like now. His past will not be wiped clean, not from their minds or even his own.

Every memory he has was stolen, taken from the victims of his consumption ability. He gains their biomass, their form and any life experiences the victim has gathered. As time has passed he has gathered hundreds of people- hundreds of voices- in his head reminding him of his crimes. They're all screaming- all dying- all because of him.

Mercer crumbled the crude reminder in his palm and took to the air. He couldn't stand the sights and smells of his failures anymore, so with a strong push he leaped several dozen meters into the air. Alex landed upon the roof a neighboring building, with a solid thud and continued his sprint forward. He was greeted, however, by his pursuers. A helicopter soared up to the roof to cut off his path. This one must have been called in by the others to slow him down. Mercer skidded to a complete stop, cutting grooves into the roof with his heels.

"Just leave me alone, will ya'? I was trying to help!" he screamed to the metallic menace. "What do you want from me?" They responded with the hum of their chain gun.


End file.
